


Your Hands Should Be All Over Me

by Alexandria (heartfullofelves)



Category: Humans (TV)
Genre: Body Worship, Consent, F/F, First Time, Past Rape/Non-con, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-08 01:13:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8824195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartfullofelves/pseuds/Alexandria
Summary: Niska explores Astrid’s body.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous prompted: “Niska to Astrid: I want to touch you.”
> 
> I had the song Potions by SEE in mind as I wrote this, which is where the title came from. [Go check it out!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y5V1wmcdyrM)

Niska has never kissed someone like this before. Astrid, unlike the men at the brothel, is soft and gentle with her, and she can tell Astrid cares for her as a person, not as a body to be used for one’s own pleasure. The little fact that they’re strangers is irrelevant; Astrid is treating her as a _human_. And that’s all Niska wants.

With Astrid’s smooth lips on hers (Niska tastes ChapStick) she moves her hand up Astrid’s arm, over the shoulder, and down Astrid’s back, just lightly, as she relaxes, settling her hand on Astrid’s hip. Astrid in turn brushes her hand over Niska’s jawline before cupping her cheek. Niska likes that.

She opens her mouth, giving Astrid entry, and she tugs Astrid’s hips closer as their tongues caress each other.

Astrid pulls back after a minute, still stroking Niska’s face. “You have a bed?” Her brown eyes twinkle.

“Sorry to disappoint, but no,” answers Niska.

She leads Astrid over to the sofa and sits down. She beckons Astrid to come closer, and Astrid straddles her lap with raised eyebrows. Astrid’s heartrate elevates. A small, minuscule smile decorates Niska’s lips before she leans in again and Astrid meets her halfway.

When Astrid takes the bottom of Niska’s top in her hands and tugs, Niska freezes. She shakes her head and pulls Astrid’s hands away. “I want to touch you,” she says, and it’s true: while she is hesitant to be touched just yet, she wants to know what a woman’s body feels like. And Astrid, this stranger from the club, is endearing.

“Okay.” Astrid shakes her head with a fond smile. She removes her jacket and throws it over her shoulder. “Oops,” she deadpans.

That makes Niska smile and then wonder why she’s smiling. To disguise it, she ducks her head and works at getting Astrid’s shirt off, revealing Astrid’s torso. She’s wearing a plain black bra.

Niska looks into Astrid’s eyes for permission – for someone with a past like Niska’s, consent is _essential_ – and when she receives it she reaches around Astrid’s back and undoes the bra clasp. Niska slips the bra off and throws it in the same direction as the jacket, drinking in the sight before her. Astrid’s skin is just the tiniest bit browner than hers, with a few freckles scattered here and there. Niska doesn’t have freckles.

Her hand drifts to Astrid’s breast, and they kiss as she cups the breast and gives it a gentle squeeze. She can _feel_ Astrid’s heart now, beating away under her hand as Astrid inhales. She likes the sense of empowerment it gives her, making someone putty in her hands, and savours it. She is giving pleasure by choice, instead of being used. And Astrid is giving back, sucking on Niska’s upper lip and making her wet. What they’re doing is reciprocal, consensual, enthusiastic. What they’re doing is okay. For the first time in her life, she wants this, wants sex.

She brushes her thumb over Astrid’s nipple, feels Astrid gasp into her mouth, and continues brushing her thumb in circles, feeling Astrid’s nipple harden. She switches to the other side, rolling her thumb around the nipple as Astrid shifts closer on her lap.

When both Astrid’s nipples are hard, Niska runs her hands up and down Astrid’s back. Unlike Niska’s flawless skin, Astrid’s has imperfections: a few spots and a tiny mole, benign. Her imperfections make her human. Niska pauses as she processes this realisation and analyses her emotional response.

Astrid stops the kiss and pulls back. “Why’d you stop?” she asks. “Something wrong?”

“Just thinking.”

“Well, don’t think, _do_.”

“Are you trying to tell me what to do?” Niska’s eyes flash in interest.

“Hmm, let’s see…” Astrid frowns, pretending to think. “ _Ja._ ”

 “So what should I do?” Niska ignores the flashbacks that come to mind of her asking the men in the brothel what they wanted.

“You could start by taking off the rest of my clothes.” Astrid wears a mischievous smile, and Niska expects her to wink, but she doesn’t. Cheeky but not _that_ cheeky. Or maybe Astrid knows that only bastards wink.

It takes complicated manoeuvring to divest Astrid of her jeans and knickers, but they manage. Niska feels overdressed, so she whips off her singlet top before facing Astrid again. Astrid grabs her hair and pulls her in for another kiss. Niska could get used to this kissing girls business.

That’s a lie: she’s already used to it, and she loves it. She doesn’t ever want to stop.

Astrid suggests they lie down on the sofa, so Niska gestures for her to go ahead while she strips down to her underwear, which she doesn’t really need but wears anyway as part of her human guise. Astrid grabs Niska’s arm and pulls. Niska lands on top of her.

“Oof!” The landing pushes the air out of Astrid’s lungs. Then she laughs.

Astrid’s laugh turns into a pleased smile as Niska strokes her thigh. Niska explores every inch of Astrid’s thighs, resting her head on Astrid’s chest with her ear on Astrid’s heart. She has a small moment of panic then: what if Astrid realises Niska doesn’t have a heartbeat? She can’t let that happen. She _can’t_. She cannot lie on Astrid’s chest forever – she has to move.

She kisses the space between Astrid’s breasts and moves downwards, keeping Astrid’s steady gaze. She touches the soft, light skin with her lips, watching Astrid’s mouth fall open and enjoying the sensation of safety and rightness that washes over her.

She pauses when she reaches the apex of Astrid’s thighs, and when Astrid says, “Yes,” she kisses her there too.

Afterwards, Astrid asks if she can return the favour. Niska considers it.

“No thanks,” she says a moment later. She isn’t ready to be touched just yet, but she’s getting there. “Maybe another time?” It pops out of her mouth without permission.

“Okay.” Astrid doesn’t push the issue, to Niska’s relief. Not only that but she smiles and doesn’t disagree about the existence of another time.

Niska covers them both with a white sheet and watches Astrid close her eyes and settle into a comfier position on the couch. She watches her fall asleep, wondering what she’s started. It’s better than predicting how it will end.


End file.
